Permanent
by ipodder
Summary: She'll deny this, of course, but as his right hand makes its way to her jean clad thigh, stroking her leg, whispering that it'll be okay, she actually breathes normally again, like she hasn't since she had gotten the call. Brooke/Julian post 6x23
1. Day One

**Disclaimer: I don't own one tree hill**

**Author's note: I haven't done anything like this before, at least not in a long time. This will be a short fic, of four chapters (each chapter representing a day, as Julian said something about 'four days' in the finale?) It takes place between the end of 6x23 to the beginning of 6x24. Basically it's what we didn't see of Brooke and Julian during Peyton's coma. **

_**Day One**_

She doesn't even have to open her eyes, or flutter those long lashes, to feel his presence, uncertain yet strong. He's been there, really, since before it started, and she can't say that she's surprised, it's what he does, pushes and retreats, forces and eventually settles, because he's Julian Baker, and he knows her.

She hasn't slept since last night, since Lucas called with the news. But now, as the events of the past hours finally made it's way to her eyes, combined with the uncomfortable plastic hospital chair, she found herself dozing off for five minutes, or was it an hour? Julian's cologne radiates off him, _kind of like his grin,_she decided. In his hand is a large cup of coffee, she may be exhausted, and not looking her best, and worried as hell, amongst other things, but she's still able to distinguish between a gourmet cup of creamy latte, extra foam, and a cheap polystyrene, mass produced horror that is the hospital coffee shop.

'You look like you could use some coffee, the real kind', and she knows that she should smile and utter a word of thanks, but somehow with him, it's best not to say anything at all. It isn't because he doesn't deserve it, but maybe, if she's honest with herself, because if she does, _everything else _will come pouring out.

She knows he feels out of place here, closely trapped in the hospital with her closest friends; her family. But as always, he's here with her, for her, because of her. He's admitted to being worried about Peyton, and despite the sinking feeling that he really does care about her, she knows, like she always does, that he's more here for her.

As she quietly sips her coffee, he sits with her, but even if his presence is calm and comforting, she can't help but shiver whenever his arm brushes against hers. That's the thing, amidst them being a bit _in between, _Julian never hides his attraction to her, and never apologizes for the force that is perhaps strong enough to make her run a thousand miles away.

Haley doesn't ask questions, and she's thankful, Nathan knows it's not any of his business, but she feels Lucas' s eyes on them sometimes. During numerous short conversations and Julian's easy smiles and touches, she feels like he doesn't quite understand. Then again, she shouldn't really be surprised, he never did fully understand _her_. Lucas claimed to know and love her two contradicting sides, but really, figuring out Peyton became his obsession, his fixation, that he somehow got tired of understanding _her_; she who begs to be saved from herself, to be loved, but always shields it away and rejects any type of _permanence_.

This is why, she muses, Julian and her works so well. Although she knows they're no longer a 'they', his little smirks, lazy glances and soft, soothing touches that don't quite overstep their new found boundary, but intimate enough to be considered as barely platonic, suggests otherwise. They still move in sync with each other; when she gets up to talk to Peyton's doctor, he's already charming the nurse for an unsupervised visit; for her. When she contemplates whether to ask him if he wants to head back to the hotel for a shower and some food, he turns off his constantly vibrating blackberry and casually asks her if she wants to check out the canteen. Always a step ahead of her, Julian, as if he can sense her every thought and beats her to it, just to ease her tension.

By 9pm, Lucas doesn't look so good, he's nervous and stressed, and tired and understandably angry. It's just him and _them _in the waiting room now. She knows what he's thinking, god, she always does; his squint and frown buried in place, as if he's trying to distract himself by dissecting _them. _

_'_Julian, man, thanks for being here, but you really don't have to hang out all night, I know you're busy with work, and everything. It's okay, really'.

She can almost hear Julian chuckle at the blonde's cluelessness, he doesn't know that _he's _actually here for _her_, and that he'll stay until he's not needed.

Because as much as she won't say, or show it, she'd be breaking down without him here.

'Luke, it's fine, I'll keep Brooke company, you should go get some sleep, you look horrible', and the grin is firmly in its place, an indication that he, by no means, intends to be cruel.

She can feel the blonde relenting slightly, and as she nods to encourage him, resulting in him walking away, she knows he still doesn't really understand. _Their _love is possibly even more complicated than his and Peyton's ever were, yet it's so understated and simple, that people like him, wrapped up in the idea of epic fantasies, will never fully comprehend.

It's just the two of them now, with the halls darkening slightly and only flashes of people, doctors, nurses, anxious families pass them by. Her fresh coffee cup lies solidly on the ground next to her feet, it's so silent, almost peaceful, that it doesn't take her by surprise as his foot gently nudges hers, his lips curving into a playful, yet gentle smile. She'll deny this, of course, but as his right hand makes its way to her jean clad thigh, stroking her leg, whispering that it'll be okay, she actually breathes normally again, like she hasn't since she had gotten the call, and lets herself, despite her many attempts to do otherwise, believe him.

Haley stops by around 11pm, with Nathan rubbing his tired eyes behind her. Just as they were approaching the waiting area, intending to head straight to Lucas, two sets of brunette locks catches their eye. They were both sound asleep, _his _hand clutching _hers_, her head was buried in his chest, and his other arm, flung to appear casual, but is indeed protectively shielding her shoulder.

The married couple share a soft smile, they would know, this indeed, screams _permanence_.

**Please leave a review!**

**Thanks x**


	2. Day Two

**Author's note: Thank you so much for all of your reviews, Angell (especially you!), Sherri, Clarissa, Surfrusty, Becca, Koumi11, Brulian4ever and also those who added 'permanent' to your alerts and favourites. Here's the second chapter, hope you enjoy it.**

_**Day Two**_

She never really believed in God, religion, or praying for that matter. She's always been someone who goes by instinct, motivated by emotion and has always been spontaneous.

So why is she still running away from him?

Contrary to every tug of the heart that he pulls, every shred of her instinct screaming at her to just _get it over with_ and let him in, she can't.

So she does what she knows best, and how she does it best. At 7am sharp, Julian's signature cologne announces his arrival, his hand, as prompt as ever, holds a large cup of coffee, she doesn't even have to guess that it's her favourite creamy latte, extra foam. Too bad she already beat him to it.

Kind of on purpose.

'I already got my morning fix, thanks.' It came out bitchier and more sarcastic than she intended, so she takes a long sip to avoid the hurt gaze in his shaky orbs. It's so _her _to actually see last night as a weakness, something she should be embarrassed by. So she deals with this by pushing him even further away, but he knows, of course he does.

He's freaking Julian Baker, and he _breathes _her.

'Brooke', he's sat beside her now, and she can't help but notice, amidst her _performance, _that his arm is touching hers slightly, and she has to stop breathing, almost for two seconds. 'It's okay to accept help sometimes you know, even with just coffee.'

Who does he think he is? An expert on the _inner_ mind of Brooke Davis?

_Yes he is, don't deny it, Brooke. You know he is._

'What are you talking about? I got here early, and got some coffee, it's not some ridiculous ploy to avoid drinking yours.'

Now that she said it out loud, she realised how pathetic it really is, that she really is doing that.

'Why are you getting so worked up over this?' His voice is soft and soothing, calm, almost, and it makes her feel inadequate somehow, like she's not his equal.

So again, she retaliates the only way she knows how, 'why are you still here?'

The only way to escape his hurt expression and the effect that it will have on her already broken heart, is to get up and walk away.

So that's what she did.

It's a little bit past lunch time now, and nobody's around except for _them_. She knows that he's still hanging around, talking on his blackberry, flipping through scripts, waiting for her. She doesn't take advantage of his patience and love, but feels so comforted by the force somehow, because she knows, whatever she throws at it, it'll never waver.

Most people call that _unconditional_, she sees it as _permanence._

And although she's comforted by it, she's also terrified.

What has she done, really, apart from giving him her body and little tangled pieces of her heart and mind.

Maybe that's what she's truly scared of, someone who really knows her and is willing to love her unconditionally, although she's only provided him with little tidbits and previews of her soul, he's somehow managed to figure out the rest, and has dug well past the surface, making his way through her walls.

She's being found out, and that excites her, yet crushes her at the same time.

They haven't exchanged a word since the coffee incident, so she decides, at 1:35pm that it's time for her to make an initiative. A peace offering of some sort.

'Hey'

He barely looks up at her, and she knows that it's not because he's angry, it's because he doesn't want to expose his pain, because she'll feel bad.

They know each other so well it's almost crazy, they just don't _say anything_ or do anything _productive _with it.

'I'm sorry'

Short, sweet and to the point, she's never been one for long winded, poetic, dramatic expressions. Although it doesn't go lost on her that if he said what she had earlier, an 'I'm sorry' would not be enough, no way.

But for her, the fact that she admits she's wrong, without saying so, is enough.

She just hopes it's enough for him, it probably is though, although she sometimes wishes it isn't, so she can fight her defenses and maybe attempt an embarrassing speech.

Or two.

She thinks she can, with him. He can make her do anything, he's that _good._

'About what I said, I uh, I'm actually glad you're here'.

Oh, she's not just _glad, _and that was all she could muster up. It's truly pathetic, almost laughable. If he wanted an embarrassing speech, maybe he'd have to stick around for a few years.

Not that she'd mind at all, but she wouldn't say or dare to think anything of that sort.

He nods, 'do you want to grab a burger? At a greasy, meaty joint? Far from here?'

She smiles gratefully and unconsciously takes his hand in hers.

It doesn't dawn on her until she sees his grin, she hastily drops it, and walks to the elevator without him.

Even the oily, but delicious greasy taste of burgers and onion rings on her hand can't shake away the warmth she felt from his hand, so she subtly asks him if he wanted the ketchup, and makes sure that her thumb grazes his during the exchange.

After their late impromptu lunch to the burger joint a little outside town, they walked around the hospital gift shop, where he embarrassed her by making faces with the teddy bears and accidentally, but kind of on purpose, popping one of the balloons, and attempting a horrible fake helium balloon induced voice.

She knows he does it just to see her laugh, lighten up a little, because he overheard how Peyton's not doing much better than yesterday.

She doesn't even know why, but over a cup of coffee (how many has she had recently?), at the coffee shop across the street ( she literally had to be dragged out of that damn hospital), she begins telling Julian about Lucas's accident in junior year, and how she was always in the hospital, but Peyton was too scared to even spend an hour there. Although it was most likely because of her then, she just didn't know it, Brooke also admits to being the scared one right now.

'Is that why you only sit outside?' He asks, but curses himself when a tear slips down her flawless face.

She merely nods.

'You must have really cared for Lucas, to be able to do that', he meant it as a compliment, and purposely avoided the cursed L word, and felt suddenly afraid that she would see it as another argument brewing up.

To his surprise, she only nods, and he wonders what she's thinking.

_Not as much as I care about you._

Pretty soon afterwards she's crying, not caring that her make up is smudged and that people are kind of looking over at them. But he thinks it's good for her to let it all out. He fights the urge to hug her, kiss her, or even run his fingers through her hair, so he feebly offers her tear stained face his best smile, and whispers that he'll be here for her.

It's a little past 10pm now, and it suddenly crosses her mind how if Peyton wasn't in this coma, she wouldn't have ever spent this time with Julian, and she's not happy that her best friend is fighting for two lives by any means, it just crosses her mind briefly that maybe this coma does have benefits, and perhaps a God exists up there somewhere.

Typical her to feel instantly disgusted at herself, at how that kind of thought ever crossed her mind. But she's sure that when Peyton wakes up, she'll let her know about this evil thought, and they'll laugh about it. God, they're horrible to each other, Brooke ponders, the cheating, lying, bitching. '

But she comes to the conclusion that things are what they are, and what matters is that their love is _unconditional_, it's _permanent._

She also wonders why the word doesn't scare her when referred to her life long friendship with Peyton. Maybe because although through their _permanence_, they've hurt each other so much that it's somehow evened out. If she was to have a _permanent furture_ with Julian, and they hurt each other too, it might well destroy her completely.

That's the difference, she decided. Her friendship with Peyton compliments her, but Julian, he's a completely different story.

He's _her._

Every fiber of her being, belongs to him. God forbid she learnt all this today, over a greasy burger and countless cups of coffee. Only two days with him and she goes crazy.

At a little bit after midnight, Nathan and Haley are back, and Lucas is freshly showered and changed, so is _he. _Brooke tries to ignore how his chest seems to mould into that grey v neck sweater, and how his hair is only slightly damp. Her mind flashes back to their first shower together, and how she ran her shampoo covered hands through his short locks as he grinned.

They're sitting all together in the waiting room, he seems to blend into the group this time, and she can't help but wonder if this means they look _permanent_.

Lucas is still curious, she thinks, and if she dare says, a bit impressed.

'How long do you think you're staying in Tree Hill?'

Out of the corner of her eye, she can feel Haley's soft eyes on her, and she keeps her eye focused, as if she doesn't really care when he's leaving.

Although _they're _so far beyond that point, those petty games.

She doesn't know why she still does it, she's so transparent to everybody that she should stop embarrassing herself and speak the truth for once.

'I'll stay until she's okay'

And she knows that he didn't mean Peyton, not really.


	3. Day Three

Author's note: I've updated more frequently than I thought I ever would :) It's been really fun to write and I think that's why I'm not too stuck. I think this story will wrap up in a couple of days, the latest. I hope people are still reading this, and please drop a review or two and let me know what you like, or don't like, or even any suggestions.__

_**Day Three**_

She didn't know why, but she woke up this morning and sprayed a little extra perfume on, made her eye liner more prominent and picked out her best pair of skinny jeans and a form fitting blazer. It was just going to be another day at the hospital, for god's sake. She feels like she's back in high school, suddenly feeling fifteen again.

She isn't even sure if Julian was going to be at the hospital today.

Oh god, who was she kidding? After his reply to Lucas last night, it was clear to her, and everybody else that he was going to be a _permanent _fixture, at least for a while.

That warms her heart a little, if she's completely honest.

She got to the hospital around 8am, and to her surprise _he _was already there, chatting with Nathan, Haley, Lucas and

'Karen!' She lets herself squeal a little, despite the circumstances, and leaps forward to elope the older woman in a fierce embrace. It's strange really, once Karen's here it's almost like she can allow herself to be a bit weaker than most days, and as she buries her face in the woman's shoulder, she feels a tear, or two, rising up. She curses herself for being a pathetic wreck, and when she pulls away, she sees Karen's warm smile staring back at her.

'It's okay Brooke, we're all in this together'

And when she looks a little further behind the older woman, she sees everybody's faces staring back at her, it seems as if Karen's return has lifted everybody's spirits, and if she dare says, made them feel more hopeful. But somehow Brooke just feels _relieved, _maybe it's because she's had her _dependable person _around for a few days, giving _her _hope, and although she's glad to see three finally smiling faces, the one that matters the most right now is _grinning_ widely, and she can't help but give a little grin of her own in return.

'So tell me about Julian'

It comes out so suddenly, at a random moment over steaming mugs of coffee, but she wasn't caught off guard.

She knew Karen _knew_, she's always known _her._

But in a typical Brooke fashion, she refuses to go into detail, or admit her vulnerability, so she just offers a feeble explanation, one that she knew would hurt him if he heard.

'He's just been around, I guess'

She cringes inwardly as it comes out, even that didn't sit right with her, and right now she wonders, for a moment if she's emotionally crippled, some kind of narcissistic psychopath who refuses to _feel_, to _love _as fiercely as she could.

As she probably does, of course she does.

Karen lifts an eyebrow, 'Brooke'

And suddenly Brooke feels exposed again, it reminds her of her 17 year old self, back when she was living under Karen's roof, and the older woman was able to see through her every hesitation, every white lie.

Every _denial _and _brush off._

'Brooke, I believe that as much as when you insisted on your strictly platonic relationship with my son, back in junior year'

She had to smile and chuckle a little at that, gosh, that seems like a lifetime ago.

'You remember that?'

Karen doesn't even have to reply, 'now tell me what's wrong, Brooke'

'It just got too _hard' _

She got too _hard_, she built herself a secured wall and couldn't find a way out herself, he has always been easy, _falling _for him was almost effortless, _loving _him seemed like a privilege.

Karen doesn't say anything else, Brooke knew her explanation wasn't really an explanation.

Hell, it was barely an excuse.

'You're doing better today, I can see it'

It's a little after lunch now, and she's absentmindedly flipping through magazines, reading up reviews on other designers and smirking a little at a positive review of the new 'clos over bros' tailored jacket.

He sits himself next to her, no longer treading on water or 'pretending' that his arm just accidently grazed hers.

They've settled into a routine now, something that feels rather _permanent._

'Yeah, Karen's helped me feel better somehow'

She doesn't even have to glance over to feel him flinch a little, and she feels narcissistic again.

So she allows herself to be weak and places her head on his shoulder and gently traces a line on his left arm, whilst her other hand picks at the plastic chair, attempting to fight the urge to kiss him.

Julian smiles to himself, but a little sadly somehow, because he's not used to the thick tension between them, it's always been so easy, so effortless. So he sighs a little tiredly and dares to press a soft kiss on her temple.

_Bad idea_, her hair has a light trace of vanilla and honey, a combination he didn't even know existed, and it ties his stomach into tight little knots. Suddenly, she shifts a little, but still snuggling to his unintentional embrace.

'You loved this shampoo', it came out barely in a whisper, and she didn't know why she said it . But he heard.

He always _hears her, _even when she's quiet and stubbornly refuses to look him in the eye.

He shakes his head, 'I still do, very much'.

She's not sure if they're still talking about the shampoo.

Deb brought Jamie to the hospital around six a clock, and he instantly (but unsurprisingly) catches onto _their tension._

'Is he your boyfriend?' He questions, not as innocently as she would hope. She remembers how she managed to avoid the same question with Owen, but with Julian, she's never really sure about anything, she feels so out of her balance.

But it seems as if her silence says enough. Julian looks hurt and Haley attempts to scold Jamie, but there's not really anything to scold him about actually.

She attempts to smile, but Jamie soon replaced the silence with another question.

'Are you guys in love?

Julian raises an eyebrow and she curses God for making the boy so damn bright.

'He means a lot to me, Jimmy Jam'

She might as well admitted that she loved him, since he walked away before she got the chance to answer.

He knew it wouldn't be what he wanted to hear.

She finds him hovering around the corridor, a deserted area with just the janitor's closet and a few other rooms in between.

'I'm sorry about just now, it's just, Jamie's a very _curious _child.

He chuckles bitterly, almost and turns to face her, fists clenched slightly.

'Brooke, I feel like an idiot here. I keep trying, and maybe finding something that's obviously not there. I don't even know what I'm still doing here, you're clearly doing fine on your own. And if _Jamie's curiousity_ is all you're apologizing for, then I'm not really sure why you'd even bother!'

She frowned, although she knew he was right, she didn't feel like dealing with _them _whilst everything else was going _wrong. _So she fights him the way she knows how.

'Wow, can you be anymore selfish? My _best _friend is in a coma, Julian, do you understand that? Sawyer might grow up without a _mother! _I can't deal with everything else right now okay?'

He looks at her, straight at her as if he's seeing her for the first time, and the expression on his face resembles a guy who's just been kicked in the stomach.

'So what, Brooke? If Peyton wakes up, they're all going to be a happy family again, where does that leave you, huh?'

Brooke steps away, 'What do you mean _if _wakes up? You know Julian, you can insult me all you want, threaten me with all the loneliness in the world, but don't you _dare _suggest that she won't..'

her words and sudden sobs were cut of by his strong arms enveloping hers, wrapping her into a fierce, almost _hurtful embrace. _Her attempts to shove him away, both physically and mentally broke down at this point, and she surrendered in the form of muffled sniffles against his chest, with him muttering repeated apologies tightly against her hair.

After their 'fight', which was actually one of the most honest conversations they've ever had, _ever, _things have suddenly felt more right between them, like they've been been treading on ice for what feels like so long, and everything's _okay _again. _Their _friends noticed the less frosty atmosphere between them, and took it as some sort of sign, that everything was going to be better.

Including Peyton, who seems to be _stable_ now, not significantly better, or worse, just _steady._

Kind of like _them, _really, in a cliched sort of way.

He walks her to the door that night, around 2am, and although she's thought about it before, she actually voices it this time; 'Do you want to come in? Surely the stuff in my fridge has to be better than the motel vending machine.' Although it surely wasn't an invitation to spend the night, perhaps it was _something._ Julian nods, and offers her a warm smile, not a cheeky grin, but a generally appreciative smile, a _grateful_ one.

Once they've settled into a somewhat comfortable, yet awkward silence, as if there's so much to say, but only a few ways to voice them. She tentatively decides to voice what she's been thinking, out loud.

'Julian, despite what happened today between us, I'm just,' she pauses a little, still uncertain about this _embarrassing speech thing,_and still a bit shy about it, if she was completely honest with herself. 'Look, I'm not good with words like you are, but I'm happy that you're here, and I know you're doing this for me, so thank you'.

He nods again, today's events finally catching up with him, and he has to stifle a yawn.

'You know I'd do anything for you, right?'

She doesn't respond, and he doesn't press the issue. Instead, she reaches for the remote and a re-run of some soap comes on, she doesn't even know what it is, and he doesn't really care. It's just nice to hear other people talk for a while. Ten minutes later, her head has found its way onto his chest and he instinctively wraps an arm around her, the blanket somehow draped around them both now. A pool of tears made its way to his shirt, and he looks down at her, murmuring words of concern.

'What's wrong?'

She stiffens slightly, then relaxes in his arms again.

'All sorts of things'

'Peyton's going to be okay, you know that right?

She nods again, desperately wanting to believe him. They settle into another comfortable silence when she decides speak up;

'It's not just about Peyton'

She didn't really need to say it, he understands. So as she draws lazy, sleepy circles on his chest, making some kind of pattern that causes his heart to swell, he bends down and kisses her head again, murmuring an 'I love you' into her hair, he couldn't stop himself. He wasn't sure if she heard, because she's no longer moving, but then she stirs slightly and relaxes against his chest, and he's pretty sure she did.

He's not sure about what her reaction will be once she wakes up, once the harsh honesty of daylight dawns on them. He even considers leaving, at around 4am, but it was as if she read his mind; her eyes fluttered open, and even in the darkness surrounding them, he sees the intensity in her gaze.

The TV is still on, but he hears her, he always does.

'Stay'


	4. Day Four

**Author's note: Here it is, last chapter! It's quite a bit longer than the other chapters. It was really difficult to not write a 'happy ending' for them, because I know, ultimately that it had to follow the pattern of the show, and therefore, the day after this would be 6x24, so I tried to make Brooke (more so at the end), more receptive with the idea of her and Julian. I'm a bit unsure with the ending, but figured I didn't know how else to do it, so here it is, enjoy!**

_**Day Four**_

She doesn't really know why they're here, in the maternity ward, gushing and smiling over new born babies.

Truth is, she didn't dare catch a glimpse of Sawyer Scott until now. Without Peyote being awake, she feels like it's_ cheating _somehow; that she gets to experience the joy first.

With Julian here, however, she feels safer and comforted. After their little 'sleepover' last night, she feels both stronger and significantly weaker at the same time, but he tends to do that to her, give her strength and manages to strip away any ounce of balance she may have had. She feels weak because she suddenly has to _depend _on somebody, but the real scary thought is that she _likes _it when he comforts her and bites his lip, and gives her a smile that makes her heart ache and flutter at the same time. The way he talks melts her, the way he over pronounces his words slightly, or the way that he absentmindedly licks his lips when he comes across a script he likes.

She misses seeing these small qualities on a daily basis.

She misses _him_.

And she misses the way she was when she was with him, second guessing way less than she used to, being less of a closed off ice queen, and _loving _so passionately.

Sawyer is wrapped in a tiny pink blanket, with images of giraffes and elephants knitted onto the material; true innocence. She sighs for a moment and scans the room, feeling lonelier than ever. She knows that it may happen to her someday; all the domestic bliss, love and kids that everybody talks about.

_He _sees her hovering figure in the corridor, and as he makes his way to her, flashes of images pop up into his mind.

_His first kiss with Brooke, their first night together, his failed 'I love you', their fights_

But suddenly it no longer matters anymore, what matters is her standing there alone right now, and his growing urge to take her into his arms and propose, give her fifty babies, if it's what she wants. He envisions what their child would look like; with moon sized dimples and a cheeky grin, curly brown hair and sun kissed skin, with his arrogance and her confidence, but also his sensitivity and her kindness.

_It'll be a pretty kick ass kid, that's for sure._

She doesn't flinch at his light touch; his right hand caressing the small of her back. She turns to him and smiles.

'She's beautiful, isn't she?'

He smiles in agreement, and hugs her a little tighter, because he knows that behind her statement, lies a million other subtexts.

_I want one_

_Would Peyton wake up to see her beautiful girl?_

_I want all of this, with you_

'Are you okay?' He murmurs into her hair, wondering right then, if they look like a real couple, and also thinking about why they aren't back to being one already.

Her nod was weak, and the smile she sends him breaks his heart, the way she presses her lips tightly together, ridding the dimples he loves so much.

'It's just, hard'

And he realises that she needs to get out of here, at least for a little while.

'Where are we going? I need to be in there, Julian! What are you doing?'

She can protest and get angry all she wants, but he doesn't miss the way her cheeks are colouring slightly, eyes twinkling and her nails digging tightly into his palm.

'We, Brooke Davis, are going for a little trip'

They're at _her and Peyton's spot, _the bridge overlooking the river, and she wonders why he even brought her here, it seems like a torture of some sort. But she knows him well enough to realize that there's got to be something more.

Something that shows, time and time again, how much he _loves _her.

'How do you even know about this place?

But frankly, it doesn't surprise her that he does.

His lips curve into a proud smirk, 'well, Peyton's mentioned it to me before'

_Ouch._

_' _But I got so curious, when you told me about it that night, remember?'

They were sitting together on the bridge now, feet dangling, overlapping each other's slightly. He brings out a few boxes of chinese take out, and pops a prawn cracker into his mouth before continuing, not giving her the chance to answer.

' We were in bed, and you had that soft old sweater on, remember? And I asked you why you were wearing something

that looks like it came from the sixties, and you told me, in your irritated voice that it was a sweater that Peyton's mom knitted for you, but it was too big to wear then.'

She smiled softly, and doesn't bother to wipe the stray tears on her cheeks.

'She always told me to keep warm outside, so she knitted me a big sweater, and told me to wear it for life, that way, no matter where I go, I'll get to take Tree Hill with me, always.'

He's heard this part before, but he loves the way she's telling it, so he lets her finish.

'And that's when you told me the stories about you, Peyton and the bridge. So I figured, why not bring you here? This way, it'll be like you're being there for her, without being stuck in that miserable place.'

His voice was so factual, and indignant, that it made her want to throw out every insecurity, every doubt, everyone who may be questioning her judgement, or their relationship, and just scream out that she loves him.

Unconditionally, _permanently_, always.

The idea of such _permanence_ crippled her with fear yesterday, two years before, hell, even when she woke up this morning. She's still scared, but right this moment, she's also thinking of a little boy with Julian's smile and her hazel eyes.

But instead of exposing herself that way, she chooses to nudge closer against him, and tickles his chin playfully.

'You always know the right thing to say.'

He shakes his head, and smiles.

'It's not what you say, most of the time, it's what you do.'

She's not sure if that makes everything she _hasn't _said, more okay. She wonders if that was his way of saying that he _knows, _although she's still silent and doing a bad job of showing so far.

'But then again, sometimes people just need to be assured, you know?'

And she finds herself back at square one again. Pathetic.

She swears that all her friends _thinks _they're together, even though Peyton's still in a coma, Brooke can't help but wonder if she's purposely torturing her, waiting for her to _get it together_, before she wakes up. At a little bit after 2pm, Haley comes up to her and instantly, in a _Haley _kind of way, _interferes._

'Where were you at lunch? Jamie was asking for his aunt Brooke.'

She shrugged, but allowed the small smile to curve out slightly, 'With Julian, on the bridge'

Haley raises one of her eyebrows, _surprised, but not really. _

'Have you guys worked it out yet?'

And she's tired of being reminded of her mistakes, her stupidity, so she tries to walk away and dance around the subject.

'Hales, whatever Julian and I are, it doesn't matter right now okay? It's not important.'

She swears to God she'll burn in hell.

Haley sighs in frustration, 'Brooke, I swear sometimes you're your biggest enemy'

And she chuckles, nothing she's never heard before, but that shouldn't make it right.

'Just let yourself be happy, please, it kills me to see you like this.'

If everybody else sees through it, through _her, _then why can't she?

'Brooke,' Haley tries, her voice significantly softer this time, 'if it doesn't matter, why is he still here? Why haven't you ignored him and told him to leave?'

And she swears the answer's on the tip of her tongue, what Julian has been waiting to hear for so long. But she's Brooke Davis, and she's her own biggest enemy, so she shrugs again and says, ' Because it doesn't seem like it bothers him that much, and we haven't really even talked about _us_.'

Haley doesn't even reply and walks away before she could have done it first.

She's avoiding Karen, because she knows that the older woman disapproves of this version of her.

The cold hearted, closed off, frustrating side of her.

But their meeting seems to be inevitable, since their love of good coffee always brings them back to the same place; the coffee shop across the hospital.

'Are you sleeping alright with all this coffee?' Always nurturing, Karen. The softness in her eyes made Brooke plagued with guilt, for avoiding her.

She shook her head slightly, 'regardless of the coffee, I wouldn't be sleeping well anyway. I'm too worried about Peyton, the last good sleep I had was last-'

_Last night, with Julian beside her._

'It doesn't matter,' she says dismissively.

_Of course it does, hell, it may have been her 'moment of clarity'._

'Why are you still here, Julian?'

She brings this up, during a rather comfortable silence, she feels like she's losing in this game of 'push and pull', she just hopes she doesn't push him away for good.

He turns to her, and she's not sure if she sees frustration, hurt or anger. Maybe a bit of all three.

'Brooke, you _know _why.'

And just like that, she feels like a six year old who's just been scolded.

Or a stupid twenty two year old who _just _won't give it up; won't let herself be happy.

Truth is, she's just afraid for him to have it all, for him to see the real her, for him to have the chance to hurt her, cripple her.

But honestly, is being like _this _better?

Because she's never more alone.

Julian's presence irks her. Right now, it's almost as if he's dangling his charm, love and comfort right in front of her nose, teasing her of what she should have.

What she _could have had. _

As if by routine, something that seems so _permanent, _even for them, Julian takes her home at 1 am.

Today, it's as if they made two steps forward, one step back, she seems relatively closed off, somehow. And frankly, he's tired, tired of her giving him hope, and then cruelly snatching it away. So he hovers in front of her front door and imagines them being _normal _again, him kissing her goodnight, and her dragging him by his shirt into the house.

She turns to him, 'Thank you, Julian.'

And he only offers a small smile before retreating to his rental.

Her voice stops him in his tracks, but he doesn't turn around, he won't give her the satisfaction of seeing his eyes.

'Do you think she'll wake up?'

He turns, not being able to stop himself. He knows it was a silly question, how would he know?

How would _anybody _know?

'Yeah, I do, on her own time.'

It's not a lie, it's love.

' Do you want to come in?'

He chuckles bitterly when he thinks of the double meaning of her question.

_He's already in, and there's no way he'll ever find his way out._

But he knows it's been another long day, and inwardly curses himself for willingly allowing her to hurt him, time and time again.

'Yeah, that'll be nice.'

'I'm scared she'll never wake up. I've never said that out loud before.'

They're back at their usual spot on the couch, but this time, the lights are off and the TV was never on in the first place. Julian already decided that he'll spend the night, so right now, s at 2am, it's just them, the night, and hopefully her opening up to him, a little bit more.

It's almost as if she feels comforted by the night, it doesn't judge her, and allows her to be vulnerable.

He listens, but doesn't reply, because it wasn't a question, and he doesn't know how to make it better.

'What about Sawyer? What will she do without Peyton? Lucas? How can Haley play her music if that happens?'

That's Brooke, always thinking of others. It's her best and worst trait, a contradiction, just like her.

'How about you? Your grief?' He asks.

Brooke shakes her head, even in the darkness he can see her determination, 'it doesn't matter.'

He laughs, 'when _you _say it doesn't matter, it always does.'

And suddenly she feels like she's back in that corridor, with Haley, all over again.

It's 2:45 am now, and neither of them have fallen asleep.

'I don't know what I'd do without her, Julian.'

He isn't sure if he should pretend to be asleep, or avoid answering the inevitable all together.

'You won't have to find out, I promise.'

Why make promises he can't keep? It'll only give her an excuse to push him away even further.

'You know, when I wanted to adopt a baby, Chase told me that _forever _scares a lot of people. And I remember thinking that it was so _silly, so ridiculous _to be scared of something that could love you unconditionally like that.'

She had to break the silence, she thinks it's time to tread the waters of _them. _

'But now I realise, I'm one of those people too. I'm scared of such _permanence, _you know, of causing disappointment, of resentment, of failure.'

In her own way, she's kind of just admitted to him why she's been so closed off, so scared.

He doesn't say anything, and she thinks tonight's been the quietest night of their relationship, with her rambling on about everything, and him just soaking it all in.

He doesn't want to say anything anymore. Because Brooke will never see herself the way he does.

The way the world does.

He feels like the biggest ass on the planet when he feigns sleep, letting his head rest on the fluffy pillow and snuggling himself into her blanket. Ten minutes later he can still hear her shuffling around, and he wishes he could hold her, but that would be crossing the line.

The imaginary line, there shouldn't be a boundary between them, and Julian wonders how he became so complicated, or how the seemingly cheerful, one dimensional former party girl turned so cynical. The real world sucks, he concludes.

She's still sitting up, he persumes, so he shifts towards her slightly, his eyes still closed, and lets out a sigh.

What he wasn't prepared for, was her soft fingers running through his hair.

An act of love, his mother once told him, before she became more interested in the men at the golf club, than him.

She bends down and lightly presses a kiss on his hair, barely grasping his brown locks.

If he wasn't awake, he would have never felt it.

He wonders if that was the point.

'You deserve so much better'

And he literally had to stop himself from furiously shaking his head in anger.

He wanted to scream at her and tell her that some do want _forever, _like he does, with her. But he realises that he's supposed to be sleeping, so he lets her run her fingers through his hair, and allows himself to finally rest, when her hand suddenly stopped moving, and silently, _permanently_ makes its way on top of his.

And stayed there.

**There it is, the end. I hope you all enjoyed this story, as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Please leave a comment to let me know what you thought x**


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